What Might Have Been
by Adamantwrites
Summary: A prequel for "The Mill"/"Marie, My Love." Young Adam watches the confusing relationship his father has with the Edwards and develops a friendship with Jean Marigny, a new hand on the start-up Ponderosa. This previously appeared on a Bonanza site but is newly edited.
1. Chapter 1

All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **What Might Have Been**

 _"For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: 'It might have been'." ~ John Greenleaf Whittier_

Part 1

The noise of voices had woken Adam and he cautiously came down the hall from the small room he shared with his little brother Hoss. He stopped at the end of the hall and looked into their small parlor; something was wrong and it frightened him. His father was sitting on their settee in his robe, holding a woman with dark hair who was crying and his father had his lips pressed against her hair. Suddenly his father noticed him.

"Adam, go back to bed," Ben said sharply as he continued to comfort the sobbing woman.

'What's wrong with Miss Joyce, Pa? Why's she crying?"

"Miss Joyce had an accident at home and hurt herself, that's all. Now go back to bed, Adam."

Adam stood for a few seconds more trying to make sense of the scene in front of him. He was ten years old and although Adam still found the ways of adults an enigma, he knew that if Miss Joyce had hurt herself at home, she wouldn't come over here. And what about her husband, Mister Tom? Why couldn't he take care of her? Why did she come all this way late at night to Pa?

"Adam, I said go to bed. Now go!"

But before Adam left, Joyce Edwards raised her head and Adam saw that one side of her face was a deep bluish-purple color and Adam ran back to his room. If adults could be so badly hurt, what chance did he as a child, have? And before he crawled into his bed, Adam looked at Hoss asleep in the trundle bed beside it; Adam pulled the blanket up around his brother to make sure he was warm. Then Adam climbed into the other bed and pulled the covers up around his neck but when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Miss Joyce's face that was so badly bruised.

~0~

Hop Sing came out of the newly-built kitchen holding a cloth and a small, brown, glass bottle. The old kitchen at one time had been behind the house attached by a covered, short, open corridor-in case a fire broke out, it wouldn't spread to the main house. Since Ben often needed to leave Adam and Hoss alone before Hop Sing came into their lives, he worried about fire.

"Here, Missy Joyce," Hop Sing said, "this soaked in chamomile tea. This bring down swelling. Here some arnica. It take down bruise."

Joyce sat up and wiping tears away, she accepted the compress from Hop Sing. "Thank you," she said. Ben took the bottle of arnica from Hop Sing.

"Good night, Hop Sing, and thank you," Ben said. Hop Sing knew that Ben wanted him to go, so he just nodded and went to his small bedroom; it wasn't originally intended as a bed room but as a shed for storage, but when Hop Sing came to live full time with them at the Ponderosa, Ben had put in a pot-bellied stove and made it comfortable with a nice bed. Hop Sing was content.

Joyce held the warm compress against her face and Ben watched her closely. "You're going to stay here tonight," Ben said.

"Oh, no, Ben, I can't."

"Yes, you can. I won't let you go home while Tom is like this. In the morning he'll be sober and then you can return." Joyce started to protest and Ben quickly put an end to it; he pulled her to him and kissed her mouth. She collapsed against his chest.

"Oh, Ben," she sobbed, "what would I do without you? How could I go on if you weren't here?"

Ben stroked her hair. "You don't need to do without me. We'll get through this together. Now," Ben said, putting Joyce at arm's length, "you'll sleep in my room and I'll sleep with the boys."

"Oh, Ben, I can't…"

"Don't let me hear anymore what you can't do. You can sleep in my bed without worry." He stood up and pulled Joyce up by one hand, "Come on." Ben led Joyce to his room, the last one at the back of the hall. "You get a good night's sleep and I'll see you in the morning at breakfast." He handed the bottle of arnica to her.

"Thank you again," Joyce said. She kissed the fingertips of one hand and placed them on Ben's lips. He held her m hand and she felt his warm lips press a kiss against her palm.

"Goodnight." Ben stood as Joyce entered the room and closed the door behind her. He was tempted to push open the door, to grab her to him and love her, to bring pleasure to her and wipe out tonight's pain and sadness. He did love her and he knew he was wrong to do so, but they were both lonely people who yearned for a sympathetic soul to fulfill their lives. Ben walked back up the hall to Adam's room and opened the door.

Both children were sleeping and Ben tried not to disturb Hoss who slept in the trundle, the smaller bed that rolled under the larger one during the day. Ben leaned over and gently shook Adam. Adam awoke and seeing his father standing beside the bed and with what he had seen earlier, Adam quickly sat up.

Ben could see his son was upset, so he tried to appear calm. "I'm sleeping in here tonight, Adam. Miss Joyce didn't feel well enough to go home-she's sleeping in my room and I'm sleeping here with you-if that's all right."

"Sure, Pa," Adam said and he moved over on the bed. "Here, Pa, you can have my pillow." Adam pushed the pillow toward his father.

"Thank you, Adam. I appreciate it." Ben removed his robe and in his nightshirt, he slid in under the covers. He rolled on his side and tried to sleep but as he feared, Adam started asking questions.

"How'd Miss Joyce get hurt, Pa?"

"I told you, she had an accident." Ben adjusted the pillow under his cheek.

"Pa, I know something's wrong, bad wrong."

"Go to sleep, Adam." Ben closed his eyes.

"Do you love Miss Joyce?" Adam asked in a small voice.

Ben thought quickly; he didn't know how to answer his son. "God tells us to love all our neighbors as ourselves so yes, I love Miss Joyce."

"Pa, that's not what I meant."

"Adam, go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow. Now goodnight." And Ben readjusted his position on the bed. He could hear his younger son, Hoss, slightly snoring and it made Ben smile and also a bit envious; how wonderful to be able to sleep with no worries and with no concerns to keep him awake.

"Goodnight, Pa," Adam said and rolled over on his side and father and son slept back against back on the narrow bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

The next morning, Ben and Joyce Edwards tried to behave as if there was nothing unusual about a woman with a swollen and bruised face sitting at the Cartwright breakfast table. Adam silently ate the grits that Hop Sing had fixed but Hoss, between bites of his sorghum-sweetened grits, pointed at Joyce and asked about her face. What was wrong with her, he wanted to know? How did Miss Joyce get hurt?

Joyce, after looking to Ben, told Hoss that she had fallen down and hit her face. Hoss looked puzzled and Adam knew she was lying. The fact that Miss Joyce and his father were having a secret between them made Adam feel odd and he found that he couldn't finish eating-he became queasy.

"Can I be excused, Pa?"

Ben looked at Adam's face and knew that it was best to just let him go; Adam was young but not so young, Ben knew, that he didn't pick up on the glances between him and Joyce. "Yes, you're excused. And, Adam, would you saddle my horse? The one Miss Joyce rode last night should still be saddled. Feed it, please, and then put the bridle back on. Would you do that?"

His father was being too polite, Adam thought, and that let him know things were really wrong. He felt that the trouble emanated from the Edward's ranch and suddenly he had the terrifying thought that his father might die, might be killed if he went to the Edwards' place.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked.

"I'm just riding out to the Edward's ranch with Miss Joyce and then I'm going to help out like I usually do."

Adam knew his father worked part-time for the Edwards. Adam helped around their ranch as well while Hop Sing watched over Hoss. Adam mucked out stalls and cut wood and gave the money he earned to his father. Once a week, he and his father would go into town and put the money in the bank-all except for twenty cents. With that, Adam was allowed to buy candy. Adam would look at the filled glass jars in the mercantile and pick out twenty pieces of penny candy; he would give ten pieces to Hoss when they arrived back home. Ben had initially told Adam there was no need to buy Hoss candy, that he would buy it for Hoss. But Adam insisted; they should save all the money they could for building up the ranch, and he wanted to share the twenty cents worth of candy with Hoss. That is, Adam added, until Hoss was old enough to make his own money. So bursting with pride at his responsible, generous son, Ben allowed Adam to be the "candy earner" of the family as he put it. And Adam would flush and laugh whenever his father called him that.

"Can I go too?" Adam asked. "Can I ride along with you and Miss Joyce? Maybe there's some work needs doing."

Joyce looked at Ben. Adam caught the look that passed between them; they were complicit in whatever it was they were trying to hide.

"Not today, Adam. There're no chores for you there but there are plenty of chores here. You need to chop wood for Hop Sing and I want you to feed the chickens and do whatever else Hop Sing needs done. Understand?"

Adam nodded. "You gonna be gone a long time?"

"Probably not," Ben said, glancing at Joyce again. And Adam looked back and forth between the adults. He even noticed the disapproving look on Hop Sing's face as he brought out fresh milk for Hoss who had emptied his glass. Hop Sing didn't like the idea either. Adam turned and with a knot in his stomach, he went out to do as his father asked.

Adam watched his father and Miss Joyce ride away together. He had held the reins of Joyce's horse while his father helped her up and there was something about the way Ben had smiled up at her once she sat on the horse's back, that puzzled Adam at first and then it came to him; he had seen his father look at Inger that way. His breath caught. Suddenly Adam wondered if his father had also had the same expression for his mother at one time. And did it mean anything? Was love so fleeting?

Adam chopped all the wood, occasionally glancing out to see if his father was riding up. He then went to clean out the three stalls that were under an overhang; they didn't have a barn yet and so the mucking was easier. He would shovel the waste and carry it a few yards away and pile it up to be used later as fertilizer. Hop Sing had told him that in China, they used the feces of the oxen and dried chicken guano to burn as fuel for cooking and to keep warm in the winter. "But wouldn't that stink?" Adam had asked. And Hop Sing had laughed and said that people used what they had-sometimes people had to make do and as long as the ox was fed, there was fuel. Then Hop Sing smiled, his eyes reflecting amusement, and Adam laughed.

After lunch, Adam asked Hop Sing what else needed to be done and asked if his father shouldn't be back already. Hop Sing told him not to worry-his father could take care of himself. But he wanted to keep Adam busy-the boy worried too much, he thought-so Hop Sing sent Adam out to the lake to catch some fish.

"You bring fish and we have for dinner tomorrow-keep cool in bucket." Adam reluctantly went out to the lake but he knew that he wouldn't catch any fish this late in the day. He also knew that Hop Sing had sent him out to give him something to do, to keep him from persistently asking the time. Adults always thought they could fool him, Adam thought, but didn't they realize that they always gave themselves away by some expression or subtle movement or just the foolishness of what they said. Adam swore that he would never be like that-he would always say what he meant.

It was becoming dark and Adam was beginning to worry as he headed home; his father had said that he wouldn't be gone long and here the day was almost over and his fear was that his father wasn't back yet because something bad had happened to him. He felt himself begin to panic and then ran the rest of the way as if something was chasing him. All his young life Adam had worried about losing his father; he needed his father so and depended on him that to lose him was his worst fear.

Adam dropped his pole outside the kitchen and then went in the side door. "Hop Sing?" Adam asked, "What time is it?" Hoss was drinking milk at the butcher block, kneeling on a chair.

"Adam, want some?" Hoss held out his glass.

"No, thanks, Hoss." Adam looked back to Hop Sing, his anxiety becoming unmanageable. What would they do if his pa never came home? Adam told himself he would have to work to support the three of them, him, Hoss and Hop Sing, and he would have to run the ranch and handle the trap lines and the skinning and curing of the hides. All this ran through Adam's head, how they would manage, how he would handle what came next.

"It 5:35," Hop Sing answered, looking quickly at the clock in the kitchen and then continued slicing up a piece of beef. Hop Sing still cooked in Chinese style; thin slivers of meat and a great deal of chopped cabbage, carrots and sliced green beans and mounds of rice. "You catch fish?"

"No-they weren't biting. Pa should be home by now. He said he wouldn't be gone long."

Hop Sing looked at the worried boy. "He be home. Mistah Adam not worry. Mistah Ben, he be home soon." Hop Sing raised his head and listened. "I think that father now."

Adam ran out to the yard and Hoss, who had slid down from the chair, followed after him. It was Ben riding up on his horse and Adam was flooded with relief; he felt weak in the knees at the sudden release of tension.

Ben pulled up his horse and Hoss ran to him putting out his arms. Ben dismounted while Adam held back. Ben scooped up Hoss who laughed and put his small, plump arms around his father's neck. "Pa home now," Hoss said.

"Yes, I certainly am. Would you like to ride my horse into the stall?" he asked Hoss.

"Yeah, Pa. Adam! I get to ride the horse!" And Ben placed Hoss on the saddle, took off his hat and placed it on Hoss' head; it fell down about his ears and Hoss pushed it back, tilting his chin up so he could see. Hoss grabbed the saddle horn with both hands and bounced crying out "Giddyup!" But the buckskin gelding Ben Cartwright regularly rode, was of a placid nature and seemed to realize that a small child, was in the saddle. It just blew some air and patiently waited.

Ben turned to his elder son. "Adam, would you take Buck into his stall for me? Then help Hoss down and I'll be out later to unsaddle my horse. Please? I need to talk to Hop Sing."

"Sure, Pa." Adam took the reins and walked the horse while Hoss chortled with delight at his being a cowboy. And Adam turned and wondered why his father had been so late and what the matter was that had to be discussed among adults.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

"Ben," Joyce said, "I don't know if you should ride all the way to the house. Tom was in such a temper last night; he even accused us of being lovers..." Joyce looked down at her hands as they held the reins.

Ben snapped his head toward Joyce. She was so beautiful, Ben thought and that any man, no matter how drunk he was, no matter what his suspicions, could strike her, infuriated him. Why would any man want to harm such a beautiful creation, such a kind, gentle loving, woman as Joyce Edwards? Ben did feel guilty about his relationship with Joyce; no matter how Tom behaved, she was still his wife. Often times, Joyce and Ben, when alone, had long talks on how they felt about one another and Ben had been trying to convince Joyce to leave Tom. Joyce would cry and say that she couldn't, Tom might very well kill them both if she did and there were Adam and Hoss to think about. But she begged Ben not to abandon her-he was the only one she could turn to, the only man-dare she say it? The only man she truly loved.

~0~

Joyce and Tom Edwards had been married four years when Ben met them. They seemed a happy couple and were prosperous. Tom had a large herd of beef cattle, a few hands working for him, and had let Ben work to pay for a few cattle to add to his small herd. One day Adam had ridden out with Ben to collect a steer and Tom ruffled Adam's dark hair and asked him if he would like to earn some money by chopping firewood. Adam was excited and asked his father who laughingly said he could. It was that day that both Ben and Adam became aware that Tom drank and didn't handle it well.

Ben and Joyce were talking, saying goodbye and Adam was waiting patiently, overly warm from chopping a large stack of cordwood. He was hungry as well. Adam knew he shouldn't interrupt when adults were talking but it appeared to Adam that his father would talk to the beautiful Miss Joyce-as she had asked Adam to call her-all day if he could.

"Pa, when are we going home?" Adam asked impatiently.

"Adam," Ben said sharply. "First, don't interrupt and second, don't use that tone of voice with me."

Joyce had smiled at Adam and told Ben that Adam was right, it was getting late and she gave a light laugh. Ben grinned and made a comment that the company was so pleasant that he lost track of time and just as he was about to tell Adam that they were leaving, Tom Edwards came stumbling out of the house. Adam had looked at Tom, wondering what was wrong; he had never seen anyone drunk before, but he had seen a mad dog once and it had staggered about just as Mr. Edwards was doing.

"What are you doing with my wife?" Tom Edwards screamed at Ben. He waved a gun about and Ben grabbed Adam by the shirt front and pulled Adam behind him.

Adam felt fear-not for himself but for his father; he instinctively knew that Mr. Edwards was irrational—his shirt was unbuttoned almost to the waist and his eyes were glassy, as if he was looking at them but couldn't focus. Something, some instinct, told Adam that people in that condition were dangerous; they couldn't be reasoned with and Adam always depended on reason. He needed to keep his world orderly and Tom Edwards threatened to blow it asunder like a stick of dynamite.

"Tom," Joyce said, "we were just saying goodbye. Ben and Adam are leaving. That's all."

"And why were you laughing?" Tom said, finally reaching them. He grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her away. "Were you laughing at me? You and Ben, together and laughing at your fool husband who doesn't know about the two of you? I know why he comes over here!'

Adam backed away and looked at his father with desperation. Adam wanted to be gone. He wanted his father to take him away from this situation but instead, he was trying to help Miss Joyce.

"Tom, Joyce is telling the truth-we were just saying goodbye." Tom swung out at Ben and Adam watched as his father nimbly sidestepped Mr. Edwards' wild swing; it caused the drunken man to fall on his face in the dirt of the yard.

"Tom!" Joyce yelled and dropped to her knees beside her husband. Mr. Edwards began to cry, as he reached for his wife. He buried his face in her lap, his arms around her waist, and continued to cry, muttering about how much he loved her, how he feared losing her and she stroked his hair.

Adam was embarrassed to see such humiliating, naked emotion. How could he look Mr. Edwards in the face again?

"Adam, get on your horse. Now." Adam quickly mounted, his eyes wide with fear. He waited until his father had also mounted and then the two of them rode out for home while Mr. and Mrs. Edwards were still in the dust and dirt.

Adam glanced at his father's face as they rode; his expression was frozen and his mouth set. Adam decided that now wasn't the time to ask about what had just transpired. And when he did finally ask, all his father would say is that alcohol made people behave in foolish ways and for Adam to remember how Mr. Edwards looked when they left him. That's what happened when a man drank too much. Adam swore to himself that he would never be that way, never be a groveling, crying fool like that, slurring his words and tottering around on unstable feet. Never.

But ever since then, sometimes when Adam would arrive with Ben to chop wood or paint the Edwards' fence or clean the barn, Ben would send Adam home and although he would go home, he would beg his father not to stay long because Adam feared that Mr. Edwards would drink again and shoot his father because he and Miss Joyce liked each other so much.

Adam knew his father and Miss Joyce had a special friendship and that they shouldn't. He had often seen them talking quietly together, their faces serious. And one time when Mr. Edwards wasn't home, Adam saw his father and Miss Joyce take off with a large basket. When Adam had run up to them and asked where they were going, his father told him that they were going to pick grapes. Adam asked if he could go too-he liked grapes, but his father sternly told him no. And his father said, shaking his finger at Adam, Adam wasn't to come looking for them either; they would be back as soon as the basket was full. Adam had a sick feeling; he knew that his father and Miss Joyce were probably going to do something they shouldn't; he knew what men and women did when in love and he hoped that wasn't what his father and Miss Joyce were going to do. He went back to his chore of pulling weeds in Miss Joyce's flower garden, his heart thumping. Suddenly, Adam wished that Mr. Edwards would die. He knew it was a sin to wish it but if Mr. Edwards did die, then his father and Miss Joyce could marry and his father could be happy.

~0~

Ben convinced Joyce that he needed to ride up to the house with her; they were both hoping that Tom would be sober by now but if he wasn't, Ben didn't want Joyce to face a drunken, vindictive Tom by herself. In the past, Tom had, according to Joyce, struck her a few times before she had learned to stay out of his way when he drank. And Tom had never beaten her as badly as he had last night, kicking in the locked bedroom door and dragging her out of bed by her hair while he slapped her and punched her, shouting accusations at her and swearing that he would kill both her and Ben Cartwright. When she told him the previous night, Ben had promised himself that if Tom ever struck Joyce again, he would kill him. Then Joyce would be free of Tom and she would look after Adam and Hoss if he hanged for the murder. But he didn't share his decision with her.

Joyce and Ben trotted up to the ranch house and dismounted, tying their horses to the hitching post.

"Ben, you shouldn't come inside," Joyce said, putting a hand on Ben's chest. "I don't know…" Joyce stopped. The left side of the double front door opened and Tom stood there for a few seconds and then came down the porch steps, looking remoreseful.

"Oh, Joyce," Tom said "I'm glad you're home. I was so worried when I…woke and you were gone. I'd thought you'd left me. Oh, Joyce, I'm so sorry-so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" He had obviously slept in his clothes as he was disheveled and had the stench of whiskey about him.

Joyce backed up as Tom reached out for her. Ben watched, ready to intervene.

"Tom, I'm going to try to forgive you but after what you did, what you said…if you drink again…"

"I won't, Joyce, I promise. Oh, Joyce, I promise I'll never drink again and I also swear that I'll never raise a hand to you again. I'll cut them off before I strike you!" Tom looked over at Ben. "And, Ben, I said some terrible things about you last night. I don't know if Joyce told you or not but I accused you of trying to take her away from me, that you two were lovers. I know it's not true but sometimes I just…I'm so sorry, Ben. You're a good friend and I've behaved like a cad."

Ben looked at Tom and he saw that even though Tom apologized, he still held the suspicion. "And rightly so," Ben thought. Ben knew he couldn't be offended by the accusation because he and Joyce were lovers—-had been for the past few months. Early on, Joyce had often bemoaned the fact that she and Tom hadn't had relations in months-Tom was usually too drunk. Ben had looked at Joyce and couldn't believe that any man could prefer alcohol over the warmth of Joyce's body. He understood the urgings that Joyce must feel that went unsatisfied because he felt the same things. So their affair had started, two lonely people desperate for physical affection as well as emotional warmth. Many times when Tom wasn't home, Ben and Joyce would go off to the vineyard and lie under the arbor in one another's arms. He would drape her with grape vines as if she was some Grecian maiden and she would hand feed him grapes, laughing and teasing him about looking like mighty Zeus. They were like Adam and Eve, Ben said, who had their own garden of Eden and like two innocent children, they found pleasure in simple things. And being with Joyce helped relieve Ben's gnawing loneliness after losing Inger.

"Ben," Tom said, "I thank you for seeing Joyce safely home…was she with you last night?"

Ben felt on edge; for Joyce's sake, he had to be careful. "She stayed with me and the boys. And I know now that I have to add more bedrooms to that house sooner than I had planned because I had to sleep with Adam and Hoss! Trust me, with Hoss snoring and Adam being the restless sleeper he is, I barely slept a wink."

Tom laughed but also studied his wife's expression, how she wouldn't look at Ben or him. "Well, Ben, I hate to ask you then if you would stay here while I go into town but I need someone to ride the property and see what needs repairing. I'm ashamed to say that I've been neglecting the ranch lately. Would you, as a friend, Ben, do that?"

"Yes, if you'll promise one thing." Tom and Joyce both looked at Ben and Joyce shook her head slightly; she was afraid of what Ben might ask. "In two weeks Adam will be eleven and I'd like you and Tom to come to dinner. It's a surprise so please don't mention it to him. Hop Sing is going to cook Adam's favorite dinner so if you like roast beef and candied yams, you'll enjoy the meal."

"Of course, Ben," Tom said, putting his arm around his wife and pulling her to his side. The gesture wasn't lost on Ben. "Adam's a fine young man and I'd be honored to be at his birthday dinner. And thank you, Ben, for still being a friend." Tom put out his hand and Ben shook it.

"Well," Ben said, "I'll talk to Hop Sing and tell him we'll have two guests. Now, I'd better get out there and check the property lines. That reminds me. I have to do the same to my place tomorrow so don't expect me." Ben mounted his horse and looked down at Joyce and Tom and the sad, desolate look in Joyce's eyes stayed with him the whole day as he rode over the Edwards' holdings. One day, Ben thought as he rode around, I'll own as much if not more property, so the next week when Tom offered to sell Ben some acreage flush to their shared property line, Ben accepted. And slowly over the next few years after the accident that was never really mentioned, the accident that crippled Tom Edwards and was rumored to be Ben Cartwright's fault, intentional or not, Tom sold Ben more and more of his property as the Edwards went deeper into debt and soon, Ben became the largest landowner in all Nevada territory and its environs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

"Adam, let's you and I go check the trap lines this morning," Ben said as they were finishing their breakfast.

"Okay, Pa." Adam grinned widely. Although he didn't like the idea of killing animals and he took no special pleasure from skinning them, he had become more adept than his father at stripping the skins and enjoyed mastering the skill. Besides, he was going to be able to spend the morning with his father without Hoss interfering.

"I come too, Pa?" Hoss eagerly asked, swinging his feet and kicking the chair legs.

"No, not this morning," Ben said, finishing his coffee, "and stop kicking the chair, please." Hoss dropped his head, his lower lip pushed out in a pout. It amazed Ben how Hoss could so quickly go from a joyous smile to a sullen pout. But the last time he had taken Hoss with him and Adam to check the traps, Hoss had cried when he saw a coyote struggling in a foothold trap and Ben had shot it. Hoss was upset about the dead "doggie." "But I tell you what, Hoss. This afternoon, I'll take you with me and Adam to check the fence lines, okay? You can ride with me."

Hoss raised his head and was grinning again. "Okay, Pa." And Hoss went back to the scrambled eggs on his plate.

Ben smiled. The times spent with his boys were invaluable, Hoss sitting in front of him on the horse and Adam riding beside them, they would check the property and Ben would tell Adam, "Remember about the north fencing needing repair," or "When we go to town next for feed, remind me that we need two salt licks," or whatever he needed for someone to remember. Ben sometimes found it hard to believe that Adam was a child of his loins-he was smart in ways Ben wasn't and had a memory for details that amazed Ben. Adam was also able to visualize objects in multi-dimensions, to think in the abstract. Lately Adam had been coming to him with rough drawings, sketches of how they could make the house bigger by building up. Adam had drawn a picture of a massive fireplace and another sketch showing how all the bedrooms could be upstairs with their fireplaces connected to the central chimney. Adam said that in that way, even if the fireplaces in the bedrooms weren't being used, the chimney would still radiate warmth to them.

Ben had just stared at Adam's drawing in awe. Then he looked at Adam who had ingenuous, golden eyes and Ben knew that he was standing in the company of someone who had great talent. It was then that Ben decided that no matter how much he had to sacrifice, Adam was going to college. He would be the first of the Cartwrights to be indulged with a higher education but Ben knew that Adam deserved it.

So Ben was happy in his sons, the deep-thinking Adam and the happy, sensitive Hoss but then, sons couldn't be everything. Ben wanted a woman in his life and Joyce Edwards fulfilled a great part of that. But for the time, Ben was content.

~0~

Ben and Adam dismounted and let their horses crop the lush grass along the creek bank. Ben took down the bucket he had brought and Adam reached for the empty flour and feed sacks he had brought. Ben looked for a long stick, something that he could poke into the water to see if any of the beaver traps had snapped and caught one of the valuable animals. Adam didn't particularly like the idea of the way the beaver traps worked because the animal, in swimming downward trying to escape the trap, drowned. But then, he reasoned to himself, a trap is a trap and no matter what, the animal would die and it was necessary.

Once, a few years ago when Ben was teaching Adam how to check traps and how to skin an animal, Adam had asked Ben about it; he had problems with what the Bible said about killing and what they were doing.

"Well," Ben said after thinking for a bit. "The Bible says that man has dominion over all the animals and even Cain killed animals as his sacrifice to God." Ben felt as if he had answered Adam properly.

"But God didn't like it," Adam replied. "He liked Abel's better and it seemed like he liked Abel best too."

Ben sighed. Adam was always thinking. He turned to his son and said, "God didn't like Cain's attitude and that's why he didn't want the sacrifice. It wasn't because Cain killed an animal. Understand? And it wasn't because he loved Abel more."

"I guess so, Pa," Adam said. "but that just doesn't seem right to me. If God did love Abel more…"

"God didn't. He loved them both the same but he liked Abel's attitude better."

Adam said nothing more but after a few moments of watching his father skin a rabbit they had trapped in a "Paiute snare," he said, "Pa, if you love Hoss more than me, it's okay. I wouldn't hurt Hoss because of it or hate him-it wouldn't be his fault."

Ben looked up and heaved a sigh. That boy of his worried a thing to death once he got ahold of it. "I don't, Adam, I don't love Hoss more. I love you both-equally. You always remember that. You and Hoss are my sons and no one, not anyone can take your places. And even if I had ten sons, you'd still be my firstborn. The firstborn is always a special child and you're special to me. And Hoss is special because he is my son and your brother-you came first and he came second and the second child is special too because he just adds to the joy. You remember that, Adam. And don't you ever doubt that I love you-not ever." And silently the two sat and then Ben, after a moment's pause, handed the knife over to Adam and watching closely, instructed Adam on how to finish skinning the rabbit.

Ben walked along the creek bank and poking with the stick, felt the softness that indicated an animal had been caught. "Adam! Here!" Adam rushed over as his father rolled up one sleeve and reached down under the water. He pulled up a beaver. "He's a fat one," Ben said and Adam laughed.

"He sure is, Pa!" Ben released the drowned animal and handed him to Adam who sat down and began to skin the animal just the way his father had taught him. And as Adam worked, Ben went down the length of the creek where they had placed traps weighed down with rocks and pulled up three more beavers, placing them on the grass for Adam to skin. They worked as a team; after Adam skinned them and placed the pelts in a sack, Ben would remove the castor sacs and oil glands-these were valuable for bartering with the Indians. The Paiutes used the dried castor sacs for medicine and Ben sold the oil glands to traders who sold the oil to European buyers; the oil was used as the base for some perfumes. But the pelts were what Ben wanted the most. He had heard that he could get a good price for them in New Orleans-a very good price. In Europe, the pelts were used for coats, ladies' collars and the felted skin was used for hats, not just in Europe but in the west as well.

As they were working and Ben was assiduously removing the castor sac from one of the beavers, Adam tapped him on the shoulder. "Pa, there's a man coming."

Ben dropped the beaver carcass and stood up, his hand poised over his gun. Then he noticed that the man, who was walking up to them holding his horse's reins, didn't have a gun. Not even a rifle.

"Hello," Ben said as the man approached.

"Bonjour, monsieur," the man replied with a friendly smile. He was in his mid-thirties, Ben guessed, with a pleasant face and a nice way about him.

"What'd he say, Pa?" Adam asked. He was always wary of strangers and this man was saying things he didn't understand. Adam wasn't sure if he liked him.

"I said," the stranger replied, 'good day.' Bonjour is French for it."

"French?" Adam was now interested. He knew a few Paiute words, some Chinese from Hop Sing, and he had known many Swedish words but since Inger was gone, he hadn't had anyone to practice with so he had forgotten most of them. But he still remembered, "min alskling," "my darling," that Inger would call him. But here he had heard another language and he was intrigued.

"Oui." The man gave a small laugh. "That means 'yes' in French."

Adam repeated the word. "How's it spelled? W-e-e?"

The man and Ben both laughed and at first Adam was embarrassed. "No, my young etudiant, my student-do not feel bad. It is spelled o-u-i but it is pronounced 'wee.' And bonjour, 'bon' means good and 'jour' means day. Now you know three words in French. But I have two more words for you and maybe we can soon use them with one another-mon ami-my friend."

The man faced Ben. "My name is Jean DeMarigny and I have come from New Orleans, my home, to find work. I have worked on a few ranches and despite my being overly educated, I have managed to become very good at the many things that are required on a ranch." He looked at what Ben and Adam had been doing. "And since my father was in the fur trade and I have had much experience with muskrats in the swamps of Louisiana, I learned the skill of removing skins quickly and efficiently. I also learned how to remove castor sacs of beavers-a delicate operation, no?"

"Well, Jean, my name is Ben Cartwright and this is my oldest son, Adam. If you can do what you say you can, then perhaps you can work for me in my trap line business-that is, if you're so inclined. Show me what you can do with a beaver carcass and a skinning knife." Ben handed the knife to Jean and Jean, kneeling down and with Adam and Ben watching over his shoulder, deftly sliced the rest of the membrane and removed the castor sac and the two oil glands. He then placed them in the bucket.

Adam gave a low whistle of appreciation. "Can you teach me to do that?"

"Oui." And Jean and Adam smiled at one another. Then Jean stood up and Ben told him that if he would help with the skinning of the animals, especially the beavers and help set the trap lines with Adam while he, himself, was working at the Edwards, then he would receive part of the profits from the sale of the pelts and three square meals a day with a place to sleep. Jean agreed, the men shook hands and then the three of them made quick work of the rest of the beavers. Then they moved on to check the other traps and finished by one in the afternoon, the earliest they had ever finished and two sacks were filled with pelts, the carcasses used to bait traps for coyotes, bobcats, wolves and foxes.

Over the next two weeks, Jean DeMarigny became a reliable friend of Ben's but most of all, he became a friend of Adam's. Jean was an amusing conversationalist and he and Adam both enjoyed puns and other jokes and sometimes, Jean would say something in French and Adam, who quickly learned French from Jean, would laugh since he was the only one who understood the joke. Jean slept in the old kitchen away from the main house and seemed content to enjoy the company of others but to still have his time alone but Adam always sensed that in Jean's solitary room, he gave in to a haunting sadness that often, when the man's guard was down, showed on his handsome face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Adam suspected that there was going to be special doings for his birthday; Hop Sing wouldn't let him in the kitchen after breakfast and Hoss wouldn't leave the kitchen. To Adam, that meant that there was going to be a spoon and a batter bowl to lick and Hoss was waiting to be the one to do so. Ben had told Adam to go with Jean, handing him a sack of food for their lunch, with instructions to check the trap lines but to be back by five o'clock-sharp. Jean pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time and promised Ben that he would have Adam back promptly at five.

Adam and Jean spent a leisurely afternoon, taking their time skinning the few animals they caught, putting new bait out and as they sat and ate the lunch Hop Sing had packed for them, Jean told Adam stories of his time in France going to university and Adam practiced his French and Jean worked with him on perfecting his accent. "Soon you will be indistinguishable from a Frenchman," Jean had said and Adam was pleased although being praised always made him feel patronized-usually. But praise from Jean was different; the man treated him as an equal in many ways and his words never had the sing-song tone adults take when speaking to a child.

Then Adam asked Jean what New Orleans was like and Jean painted a picture of the city with words alone. Adam could see the hanging moss and the wrought iron balconies and feel the hot, humid weather. But when he asked Jean why he had left such a city, a city he seemed to love, Jean became sad and told Adam that things had not gone well and that he had left to escape something in his past, something which had broken him. Adam was puzzled as to what it could possibly be since Jean didn't appear to be the criminal type so perhaps it had been a woman-Adam knew of such things from listening to adults talk in town but he wasn't going to push.

When Jean and Adam arrived back home, Adam noticed the Edwards' carriage parked outside; he recognized it because he had polished it many times to keep it shiny and rust-free. His stomach turned; he feared that Miss Joyce had been hurt again and had come to his father.

"What is it?" Jean asked as Adam stood, staring at the carriage.

"Nothing, I just…" Adam looked up at Jean as he was unbridling the horses to turn them loose in the paddock. "It's nothing," Adam said. He helped Jean unsaddle the horses and then he and Jean headed to the washhouse but Adam still had a gnawing fear in the back of his mind. He also knew that if Miss Joyce was there crying in his father's arms that no one would pay any attention to him and it was his birthday-she had no right to ruin it. He liked Miss Joyce-she was good to him but he didn't want her problems interfering with his birthday celebration as he was sure dinner was going to be.

Adam hesitantly walked into the house, Jean behind him, and then he saw his father, Hop Sing, Hoss and the Edwards standing at the table. Chinese lanterns were hung about the room and they all burst into "For he's a jolly good fellow…"

"Adam," Hoss cried, jumping up and down in excitement, "it's your birdday party!"

Adam felt a wave of guilt for his feelings about Miss Joyce. Here she was, smiling at his birthday party and Mr. Edwards was there as well, singing with the rest of them, happy for him. And not liking to be the center of attention, Adam blushed. When his father motioned for him to come over to his seat, he did and sat with his head lowered until the conversation changed from him to other matters. As Adam ate, he noticed how his father and Miss Joyce wouldn't look straight at one another but would sneak glances and then quickly look away. Adam also saw that Mr. Edwards noticed too but he didn't say anything or do anything, just kept up the conversation which eventually turned to hunting the bighorn sheep that had been spotted on the south range. Mr. Edwards said that he would love to have those curled ram's horns above his fireplace. And by the end of the meal, Ben and Jean and Mr. Edwards had agreed that tomorrow they would go hunting for the big ram.

After they finished the meal, Hop Sing brought out the cake and sat it in front of Adam. Hoss kneeled on his chair to see better. "Blow candles out!" Hoss demanded.

"Wait," Ben said, holding up his hand. "Before we cut the cake, I want to give Adam his present. I can't wait."

"You got me a present, Pa?" Adam hadn't expected a present for his birthday; he knew how tight money was and for his father to have bought him anything surprised him.

"Of course, I bought you a present, son. Keeping it hid all this time wasn't easy but Jean kept it in his room."

"Ben," Jean said, "allow me to give Adam le cadeau from me first. One should start with le plus petit cadeau and work up to le plus grand."

"Start with the smallest present and go to the biggest," Adam said.

"Tres bien," Jean said. "Now," he said, reaching inside his shirt and pulling out a narrow package wrapped in brown paper, "this is my gift to a fine young man and un ami."

Adam unwrapped the narrow package and saw that it was a leather knife sheath with two slits that allowed it to be slid onto a belt. "This is what you've been making, isn't it," Adam asked, looking up to Jean.

"Yes," Jean said. "I am not much of a leather worker, I regret, but it is my humble gift to you."

"It's wonderful," Adam said. "Thank you. I'm going to see how my knife looks in it." Adam started to get up from the table.

"Wait," Mr. Edwards said. "Open our gift next." He stood up and took a box off the buffet and handed it to Adam.

Adam untied the string and unfolded the blue paper. He opened the box and looked down at a shiny knife with a carved bone handle. Adam lifted it out of the box and held it.

"Thank you," Adam said. "Thank you both very much." He admired the heft and could see how very sharp the blade was.

"See if it fits," Mr. Edwards said, pointing to the sheath. "See if your new knife fits in its new sheath."

Adam slid the knife in and smiled at them all; it fit.

"Now, this is from Hop Sing and Hoss and me." Ben nodded at Hop Sing who rushed into the kitchen and came back holding something behind him. "Go ahead." Ben nodded toward Hop Sing.

"This for Mistah Adam," Hop Sing said, his broad face displaying a wide grin, and held out a guitar.

Adam thought he would cry. He had been wanting a guitar for quite some time, admiring the one in the mercantile but he never dared hope to have one, and yet and now he had one of his own. He reached out for it and ran his hands over the smooth, shiny wood and then strummed a few strings.

"I can't afford lessons, Adam," Ben said. "At least not yet. But in maybe a year or so…"

"Not to worry," Jean said. "I have played similar instruments and I am sure that I can help Adam learn the chords and such." Then he turned to Adam," but, mon ami, you will have to practice-every chance you get. One must practice an art in order to master it but alas, one never masters an art."

Adam grinned. He admired the man and was grateful for him. Adam was glad that Jean Marigny had ridden into their lives.

After the cake and the candles which Adam let Hoss help blow out, the Edwards stayed for another hour and then, as darkness fell, they made the polite motions to leave. "Goodnight, Adam," Joyce Edwards said as she stood by their carriage. She bent over to kiss him on the cheek and even in the light from the porch, Adam noticed the vestiges of the bruises on the side of her face. She had tried to hide them with powder and rouge but Adam noticed the lingering shadow.

"Thank you again for the knife," Adam said. "I really do like it."

She told him he was welcome and Adam watched carefully as his father helped Miss Joyce into the carriage. Adam noticed a look of sadness pass between them. It was the only thing that marred his birthday. And after the Edwards left, Adam had his first guitar lesson, Hoss hanging over the chair's arm, but he couldn't get the image of his father and Miss Joyce looking at each other with an emotion Adam didn't quite understand; it was longing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

The next morning as his father and Jean saddled up to go big horn sheep hunting, Adam asked to go along.

"No, Adam," Ben said, "we're going to be pretty high up and it's a little too dangerous for you."

"But, Pa, I can handle a rifle as well as any man-you told me that yourself."

Jean looked at Ben and raised his eyebrow in amusement as Ben glanced at him. "I swear, that boy never forgets a thing." Then he turned back to Adam. "Not this time, Adam, but I promise, one day soon."

"He will remember, you know," Jean said with a small chuckle," and hold you to it."

"Oh, do I ever know," Ben said, laughing.

Adam reluctantly stayed home but he was restless. Hop Sing fussed at him for moping around the house and told the boy to go fishing and to take Hoss with him, but he said didn't want to go. Hop Sing told him to find something to keep him busy. But Adam couldn't concentrate; he was worried and he wasn't sure why. He had an undefined sense of foreboding. The feeling reminded him of the story of the sword of Damocles because that was how he felt, as if the sword was going to drop anytime and destroy his life.

He took up his guitar and practiced fingering the chords and strumming as Jean had shown him. They had been working on a folksong, an old one, "Early One Morning." Jean had taught him the first two stanzas and he tried to sing them and play at the same time. Jean taught him how to sing from deep in his chest and Adam listened in amazement at Jean's beautiful voice as he sang, "Early one morning, just as the sun was rising..." Even Hop Sing came out to sit and listen as Jean moved into operatic pieces and French songs he knew-some silly, some not. But Adam noticed tears welled in Jean's eyes every time he sang a moving piece of music. Jean apologized the first time-he said that music touched his heart and Adam knew what he meant. He himself had often fought back tears when the words of a psalm sung in church moved him.

So Adam practiced singing and playing when he could and, as usual when he practiced, Hoss came out and hung over the arm of the old easy chair to watch and ask questions. "Go away, Hoss." Adam didn't want any company.

"Sing some more, Adam."

"Hoss, just go away," Adam said, giving Hoss a shove that knocked him to the floor. Hoss scampered up and then, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed, he swung a fist and hit Adam on his arm.

"Hey, watch it!" Adam yelled. He placed the guitar on the chair and with both hands, shoved Hoss back; he landed with a thud on his backside. Hop Sing came out from the bedrooms where he had been stripping the beds as it was laundry day. He clucked over them in Chinese and grabbed Adam by one arm and Hoss with the other. "Brothers no fight. Adam, you go porch- play guitar there. Hoss, you come feed chickens with Hop Sing." He dropped their arms and stood looking at them, his hands on his hips.

Glowering, Adam picked up his guitar and went out on the porch and Hop Sing and Hoss went off to the chickens. Adam's head was hot-he knew he shouldn't push Hoss, he was much older and knew better but Hoss was always wanting to do things with him and Adam didn't want a "baby" hanging around all the time. But Adam, as honest with himself as he was, knew it wasn't Hoss-he was on edge and wanted to do violence in order to get rid of this feeling. He couldn't concentrate on his guitar anymore so he went out to see the horse in the stall that he considered his since he rode it the most; Jean and his father had taken the other two horses.

"Hey, old boy," Adam said, petting the horse's muzzle. "You got an easy day today, don't you?" The horse huffed into Adam's hand. Adam raised his head-he heard a horse coming at a gallop and turning, he saw Jean Marigny ride in and pull up his horse where Hop Sing and Hoss were. Jean's face showed strain and Adam's bowels went liquid with fear. Adam's first thought was of his father; he was sure his father was hurt if not dead.

"Hop Sing," Jean said, dismounting even before his horse came to a complete stop, "I need the buckboard and some blankets. I'm going to fetch two boards to use as a conveyance. Please, get the blankets for me."

"What wrong?" Hop Sing asked. Hoss hid behind him and began to cry because he sensed the adults were upset. "It Mistah Cartwright?"

"No," Jean said, "it's Mr. Edwards."

Adam heard his father was safe and his knees almost collapsed. He realized he hadn't been breathing while waiting to hear if his father had been hurt.

Hop Sing hurried into the house to retrieve blankets, Hoss following him. Jean looked to Adam. "Please, hitch the fresh horse to the buckboard while I find the planks and rope."

Adam did as asked and then he climbed up on the seat and held the horse's reins. Hop Sing placed the blankets in the back.

Jean came out and saw Adam on the seat. "I think that it is best that you stay here and watch your little brother while Hop Sing goes to town and sends the doctor out."

"Yes, Mistah Adam-you stay home. I get doctor, Mistah Jean, and tell him go Edwards'. Mistah Adam, you stay here."

Adam looked to Hop Sing and then to Jean, his heart thumping. "I'm going," Adam said, looking down at his hands holding the reins. He had never defied an adult before but he had to go; he needed to find out what had happened.

Jean and Hop Sing looked at one another. They wordlessly decided to allow Adam to go since it would take physical restraint to prevent him, he was so determined.

"D'accord, mon ami," Jean said to Adam as he climbed up beside him. "Let us go then." And Adam clucked to the horse as he snapped the reins and they left.

Hop Sing bent down to Hoss who had stopped crying. "You want ride cowboy with Hop Sing?" Hoss smiled and jumped up and down in delight so the two of them managed to get on the already saddled horse Jean had ridden and took off for town, Hop Sing, awkward, with one hand about Hoss and the other managing the reins.

Jean directed Adam to where he had left Ben and Tom Edwards; Jean had told Adam that Mr. Edwards was badly injured and since they were closer to the Ponderosa than Mr. Edwards' ranch, he and Ben had decided Jean would go there for the wagon. But even though Jean believed he had prepared Adam, he hadn't. Adam wasn't expecting to see what he did. Mr. Edwards was lying on his stomach and there was a wide, bloody mess on his lower back; he appeared dead. He father was kneeling beside him, a look of hopeless horror on his face. When Ben saw Jean and Adam drive up, Ben stood up and approached Jean who had jumped down from the seat after telling to Adam to pull out the planks and the ropes.

"Why did you bring Adam?" Ben asked, upset with Jean. "I don't want him to see this."

"I did not bring him," Jean said. "He came with me. Adam chose to come."

"He only just turned eleven-how can he choose for himself?" Ben kept his voice down so Adam wouldn't hear.

Jean faced Ben. "Your son has more sense and more intelligence than most men I have met. I could not insult him by treating his feelings as if they were not important." And Ben stood agape while Jean went to Adam and the two of them tied the planks together. Jean and Ben carefully slid the planks under Tom Edwards and then gently slid the planks onto the buckboard. Ben tucked the blankets around Tom, taking a seat beside him, and told Adam to tie their horses to the back. Then they drove to the Edwards' ranch.

Adam stood by helplessly in the parlor while the adults, Jean, his father and Miss Joyce took Mr. Edwards upstairs. The house was suffocating to him so he went out to the front porch and sat on the top step. There was a strong creek by the house and Adam listened to the water as it churned over the rocks. He noticed how the sun was reflected in the water as it started sinking lower in the horizon and the sun was almost down when the doctor finally arrived. The doctor acknowledged Adam who told him that it was Mr. Edwards and that they were upstairs. Soon after, Jean came out to the porch and sat by Adam.

"What happened?" Adam quietly asked. "How did Mr. Edwards get hurt?"

Jean told Adam that they had spotted not one, but two ewes and a large ram. They were climbing upward to get a better shot, a better vantage point, Mr. Edwards wanting the horns, Jean wanting the taste of mutton and Adam's father wanting the warm furs for the upcoming winter. That was all they could think of, what they wanted. Jean said that he was the highest followed by Ben and Mr. Edwards and they were ascending when suddenly Mr. Edwards cried out and as Jean and Ben watched, Mr. Edwards slid down the face of the mountain and landed on a ledge. It was a narrow ledge and Mr. Edwards barely landed on it but cried out that his ankle was broken-he had landed on it hard and he swore he heard it snap. Nevertheless, he couldn't put his weight on it. So Ben worked his way down to the narrow ledge, almost slipping a few times himself. Jean said he waited and watched to see if he could help. Ben finally reached Tom and Ben tried to help Tom navigate the rocks to make his way to a lower level. Ben held onto Tom's rifle; he had earlier handed his own rifle up to Jean. Ben and Tom were working their way down the steep face, Tom having trouble due to his ankle, and then the two of them fell and Ben dropped the rifle. The two men landed on another outcropping but the rifle, when it hit the lower ledge, fired and shattered Mr. Edward's spine. Fortunately for Ben, he, himself, remained uninjured.

"What's going to happen to Mr. Edwards?" Adam asked.

"If he doesn't die, there will be a life of misery; when a man's spine is injured as his is, there is always a serious repercussion-at the least, I would say he will not walk again." Jean did not tell Adam the rest of his thought-"or be as a man with his wife again."

"It was an accident, wasn't it?" Adam asked more as a statement than a question. "Pa didn't shoot him."

"Of, course, it was an accident," Jean said, looking at Adam questioningly. "Why would anyone think otherwise?"

Adam shrugged. He said nothing but Adam knew that his father loved Joyce and a terrible sick feeling came over him that maybe, just maybe his father wanted Mr. Edwards dead so that he could marry Miss Joyce. Then Adam felt guilty as well. Had he not hoped just for this, that Mr. Edwards would die? So, the two of them sat in silence while night fell.

"I'm going to check on Pa," Adam told Jean as he stood up. The longer matters took, the more anxious Adam became.

"I think you should stay here," Jean said. He looked up at Adam and saw the boy had his jaw set; Adam was determined so Jean shrugged and said, "Ce que vous devez le faire-do what you must."

Adam opened the front door and froze-his father was kissing Miss Joyce. He was holding her in his arms, her head bent over his upper arm and he was kissing her and Adam quietly closed the door. He felt as if he had seen them naked.

"Qu'est-ce qui ne vas pa, mon ami?" Jean noticed Adam's face had blanched as if he had seen some horror.

Adam looked up at Jean. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." He paused. "I'm going to wait in the wagon. Would you tell Pa to hurry?" Adam walked over to the buckboard and climbed in the back; he wanted to be left alone. He wanted to cry but he was too old. And a terrible feeling came over him that soon, he would be grown and might be placed in a situation like his father's, in love with a woman he couldn't have. Adam wished he was a small child again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

It was later in the week when Sheriff Coffee showed up at dinnertime. He was a few years older than Ben and the men had formed a strong friendship, both having lost wives and both struggling in their early years. Adam admired Roy Coffee; he had the impression that the Sheriff was an honest, plain-speaking, deep-thinking man and Adam felt he could trust him.

"Roy," Ben said as he held open the door, "come in. Your timing's perfect. We just sat down to dinner. Come join us."

"I don't want to intrude any," Roy said, "but I would like a cup of coffee. I'm getting mighty tired of my own; it tastes more like kerosene than coffee." The two men laughed and Ben led Roy over to the table. Jean and Roy exchanged greetings and Roy made a point of telling both Hoss and Adam, hello. But when Hop Sing saw that he had another guest, he insisted that Roy eat. Roy declined as politely as he could but Hop Sing wouldn't hear of it and piled food on his plate.

"You eat!" Hop Sing ordered. "Man alone need good food!" And after Hop Sing left, Ben told Roy that unless he wanted to feel the wrath of Hop Sing, he had better eat and eat it all.

"If you don't eat," Adam said in a teasing tone, "you sure won't get any dessert!" They laughed and Roy began to eat the hot food. Hop Sing knew that Roy Coffee was a widower and he also knew that a warm, full belly and the friendship of others, people who loved you and whom you loved, were comforts to assuage the loneliness.

"So Roy," Ben asked, "what besides a free meal brings you out here?"

"Oh," Roy said, "I just need to ask you and Jean some questions about the accident, Mr. Edwards' accident. Won't take long."

Jean and Ben exchanged looks and Adam picked up on it-he couldn't discern the meaning but no matter what it conveyed, it made Adam's stomach clench. He suddenly had no more appetite. He asked to be excused and went to his room where he lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling, noticing the wood grain and the knotholes, waiting to hear the door closing that would indicate that Roy Coffee had left.

After dinner, Roy, Ben and Jean sat in the parlor. "Okay, Roy, what is it? What do you need to know other than what I told the doctor about the accident?"

"I was at the Edwards' place before I came here 'cause Doc Stephens came to my office this afternoon." Roy looked down at his hands then looked up at Ben and Jean. "He said that today, when he was out checking on Tom, Tom told him that you shot him in the back, that you wanted to kill him to get his land…and his wife and that's exactly what he told me when I talked to him." Roy looked straight at Ben. Ben just stared back-shocked.

"No," Ben said, "no, I tried to save him. I tried to help him down from the mountain when he hurt his ankle. It was an accident."

"Yes, Sheriff," Jean added. "It was an unfortunate accident. I was there. I will swear to what happened. It is as Mr. Cartwright says. Tom fell, said that his ankle was broken and when Ben was helping him to climb down, they slipped. Ben dropped the rifle to catch Mr. Edwards and when it hit the rock, it went off-it could have shot Ben instead of Tom."

"But it didn't." Roy stood up, "and I guess that's what's eatin' at Tom's craw. But since there were only you three and your two stories are the same, I won't have to call an inquest."

"An inquest?" Ben stood up, upset that Roy might in the slightest think he had intentionally shot Tom Edwards.

"Well, since Tom Edwards said you tried to murder him and attempted murder charges require an inquest, I had to investigate. By the way, apparently he's telling everyone who's stopped by to see him that you shot him in the back; the town's buzzin' with it. They might ask me why I haven't done any investigating, thinkin' that just 'cause we're friends that I let you off. But now I've done my investigating and it's like I supposed it would be." Roy put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ben. I'm sure that things will settle down. Well, I'll be goin' now. Thank Hop Sing for dinner for me, will you?"

Ben assured Roy he would and walked Roy out but before he left, Roy cautioned Ben to stay away from the Edwards ', to stop going over there as he had been to help out. Ben stated that Mrs. Edwards needed help with Tom, if nothing else. Roy told him that Mrs. Edwards had just hired one of the ranch hands, a man named Dempsey, to help. He was a big man and helped move Tom when needed and helped to feed him and bathe him and change his bandages. So, Roy added, it would be best for Ben to stay away. Seeing how Tom felt right now about Ben, accusing him of trying to kill him and all, Roy practically ordered him to stay away. "And I don't want to hear any arguing, Ben. Just tray completely away and if Mrs. Edwards comes over here, and I hope she has more sense than to do such a thing, well, whatever you do, don't be alone with her."

Adam's bedroom window was open and as he lay on his bed, he heard the men talking in the yard and all they had said. Adam squeezed his eyes shut; "Please, Pa, listen to Roy. Please!" he whispered into the air.

After Roy rode away, Ben walked into the house and sat down. Jean was waiting.

"Mr. Cartwright," Jean said. "If I am needed, I will tell what I saw. You have no need to worry."

Ben heavily sighed. "You don't know the whole story, Jean. I think you should before…well, you should know all of it and why Tom Edwards is saying what he is." Ben rested his head in his hands, holding himself together before he continued. "I do want the land he's been selling off; I want to expand the Ponderosa and he also needs the money. Edwards goes into town nights and drinks and gambles and he's a lousy gambler. He's prodigal and has also taken out his frustrations on his wife after he's been drinking, coming home sodden may a night. But Mrs. Edwards, Joyce, we're in love. I'm afraid that I feel guilty over that even though we swore to never see each other again since the day of the accident; Roy's cautioning was unnecessary. Before I left their ranch that night, the night of the accident, we shared our last kiss and I've kept my promise and so has she. We haven't touched since then. We're now like strangers. And I do feel guilty even though it was an accident. I can't help but wonder if somehow I did cause it."

"But that is foolish to wonder; you could not cause a quirk of fate to happen. If so, you are the most powerful man in the world. And if you are, perhaps you can help me. I too had a quirk of fate that destroyed me, destroyed who I was. Maybe, I always thought, maybe I caused it to happen. I don't know. Had I been home as I should have been…" Jean shrugged and sat back against the chair's worn cushions. "But one cannot change past events, not even God himself."

The two men sat engrossed in their own thoughts, only being drawn back into the world by Hop Sing bringing them coffee.

~0~

It was a hot day and Jean, Adam and Ben were building a barn. They had the frame already hammered together, the roof beams raised, and were now beginning to nail the boards from section to section. Together, Jean and Adam had taken the basic plan of a barn and added some changes. Adam wanted another window in the back so that during the summer, the shutters could be opened and a breeze would run through the whole building. That would help keep the animals cool. Ben thought it was a good idea so they had built a window frame in the back wall. They were working and chatting when they turned, hearing a horse snuffle; the hammering had prevented them from hearing the rider.

A big man was sitting on a horse, watching them. "Can I help you?" Ben asked.

Adam backed up. He didn't like the look on the man's face but there was something familiar about him as well. Then it dawned on Adam; the man was a ranch hand for Mr. Edwards. He had seen him there while working.

"You work for Mr. Edwards, don't you?" Adam asked.

"S'pose I do? What business is it of yours, kid." The man looked at Adam.

"Your name Dempsey?" Adam was guessing but it seemed to make sense now why the man was there. He was the one hired to take care of Mr. Edwards.

"Yeah, my name's Dempsey, kid. But I come to talk to your pa here."

"What do you need?" Ben became edgy. He hadn't brought a rifle out and there wasn't a weapon around except perhaps the saws and hammers.

"Miss Edwards wants you to come to the ranch, so's if you'll just come along with me…"

"Why?" Ben asked. "Why does she want me there?"

"I don't ask questions…I just do what I'm told. Now if you'll just get on that horse over there and come with me, we can leave."

Ben was dubious-he doubted that Joyce had sent for him and yet, she always came to him for help. Maybe she needed his help now. "Tell Mrs. Edwards that I'll be by later." Ben turned to the work at hand but the man just sat on the horse. Ben turned back to him. "Did you hear me?"

The man suddenly pulled his gun and aimed it at Ben. "Now, less'n you want your boy here to see somethin' that might upset him like you bein' cut in half, get on that horse and come with me. I ain't askin' again."

Ben looked to Jean and then began walking to the horse that was saddled and bridled from earlier in the morning. And as Dempsey was watching Ben, Jean shifted the hammer in his hand and just as if it were a knife or a hatchet, threw it end over end at Dempsey. It struck the big man on the forehead and as he tumbled backwards off his horse, Dempsey's gun went off. Adam watched as Jean fell backwards, a look of surprise on his face. Adam dropped to the ground by his friend.

"Jean!" Adam cried as he kneeled next to him.

"Oh, mon ami," Jean said, looking up at Adam with a little smile. "What is to be done?"

Ben checked on Dempsey. The man was dead. Ben rushed over to Jean and Adam. Hop Sing, upon hearing the shot, rushed out of the kitchen, holding a rifle.

"Mistah Ben!" he called out. Ben looked up at Hop Sing who was rushing over. He told Hop Sing that they needed help getting Jean into the house.

"Jean," Ben asked, "is it bad?"

"It is not good." Jean offered a weak smile.

Ben opened Jean's shirt and saw that it was very bad; he had a hole in his chest that exuded blood in accordance with his heartbeat. Ben and Hop Sing exchanged looks. "Jean," Ben said, "I'm going to send Adam for the doctor. We'll get you inside."

"No need for the boy to ride all that way. Another quirk of fate has occurred to diec my life—or in this case, my death. For you see, my dear friend, my wound, as Mercutio said," Jean replied with a half-smile. "'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door-but 'tis enough, 'twill serve." Then Jean took a deep gasp, shaking from the loss of blood and the shock of the wound, but grabbed Ben's arm, holding tightly. "Listen to me…remember what I say. I have a wife, Marie, Marie D'Vaille Marigny in New Orleans. Tell her that I forgive her. I was wrong and I love her very much, so very much despite... Please, Ben, go to New Orleans, find my wife and my mother. Tell them both that I am sorry for the pain I caused. And please, if you can-find a man, my friend, Marius Angeville. He will help you-he was like a father to me. Promise me, Ben. Promise me." Jean tried to take a deep breath, but failed. He gripped Ben's arm and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "You will go-tell my wife, Marie. Please. Promise."

"I promise." Ben said. "I'll go-I'll tell them in person. I promise, Jean. Now we need to get you to the house."

But Jean wouldn't let go of his arm, only gripped it tighter. Jean then turned to Adam who was sitting frozen, watching his friend die. "Adieu, mon ami. May God be with you always." And Adam heard a sound deep within Jean's chest, a horrible rattling, gurgling sound he would never forget. Then Jean's hand dropped from Ben's arm and his eyes stared blankly at the blue, cloudless sky between the barn rafters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

Adam didn't cry after Jean died nor did he cry at the funeral. Ben tried to get Adam to talk about the loss of Jean Marigny but he refused. The only person he spoke to about what happened was Roy Coffee who quietly asked for the details for legal reasons. Roy noticed that Adam stared at the wall as he recited the events, his voice calm but flat. The only obvious sign of how deep Adam's grief went was that he put aside his guitar and moved like a thin, silent ghost through the days that followed.

When questioned by Roy Coffee, Joyce Edwards said that she had never asked Dempsey to retrieve Ben and had no idea why Dempsey had gone for Ben Cartwright. Tom Edwards also claimed ignorance; all he said was that Dempsey must have been drinking too much, and feeling pity for his employer's condition, had decided to take revenge in his own hands. Edwards then told his wife to check the liquor cabinet and she did. She told Roy that a bottle of whiskey was gone and so was half a bottle of gin. Privately, Roy asked Joyce if Tom had been drinking more of late and Joyce said she didn't really know; Tom always demanded she get out whenever he and Dempsey played cards during the day, and by the time she went to bed, Tom was asleep and Dempsey was in his own room downstairs. Roy noticed how Joyce avoided his eyes as she spoke in a monotone, no emotion involved in her words.

Three days after Jean's death, Joyce rode to the Ponderosa. Ben met her outside but they didn't touch and Joyce said she couldn't stay but a moment; Tom was alone at the house. Adam had come out of the house at the sound of the horse and saw his father and Joyce talking. Joyce, holding her horse's reins, was apologizing for Dempsey and expressing her regret at the death of Jean Marigny.

Adam stopped and Joyce looked at him as he stood a few feet away. "Adam, Jean, your friend, I am so…" but that's all she had time to say. She walked near Adam and he looked like a colt about to bolt. Adam tentatively took two steps toward her and Joyce dropped the reins; she knew what the boy needed as any woman would; she put out her arms to him. Adam fell into her comforting embrace, held onto her and began to sob. She caressed his dark head lying on her breast as he cried. Joyce said nothing, just gave him the comfort of a woman's arms, a mother's arms.

Eventually, Adam stopped crying and pulled back. "I…I shouldn't have…"

"Adam," Joyce said, bending her head slightly to meet his eyes. Adam was tall and slender, almost gangly and she was amazed that he seemed to have grown taller since she had last seen him only a short time ago. "Adam, I know that it seems now as if things will never become better, as if your heart has been broken again by the passing of someone you loved, but listen to me because what I'm going to say is true: Every morning the sun comes up and we have a day ahead of us to fill as we choose. We can fill it with grief or we can fill it with hope. That's God's promise. Life goes on and although we can't and shouldn't forget those who meant so much to us, there will be more people to fill the future. And I promise you, although you'll always remember the loss, you'll find it gets easier and then you can remember and be happy." And Joyce kissed Adam on the cheek and touched his shoulder.

Adam smiled gently at Joyce and nodded. Then he went in the house and Ben and Joyce talked a bit longer. Joyce was about to leave when they both stopped to listen. Through the open window of Adam's bedroom, they could hear the beginning strains of a song being strummed out on a guitar.

~0~

Ben and Hop Sing were rushing around the house packing his bags for New Orleans. Outside, Adam and the new man who had worked for an old friend of Ben's in Utah, Heck Drake, were piling the bound animal pelts into the back of the buckboard; there were a few hundred pounds of them. Ben was sending them as freight to San Francisco. Once he arrived there, he would claim the freight and take them with him on a clipper ship to New Orleans; the furs were extremely valuable and he already had decided where the money would go.

"Now, Adam," Ben said as Hop Sing began to carry out his suitcases. "You know how to check the trap lines and trust Heck to take care of the cattle. Watch over Hoss and help Hop Sing."

"Yes, Pa," Adam said, taking a valise off the porch to carry out to the buckboard. They walked together; it was a glorious day. Earlier, Ben had asked Adam what Jean's friend's name in New Orleans was-he had forgotten. Ben was cautious about bringing up Jean but if it affected Adam, he hid it.

"Angel city," Adam replied.

"What?" Ben had no idea why Adam would answer with a seeming non-sequitur.

"Angel city. His last name, Angeville means 'angel city' or 'city of angels.' That's how I remember. And his first name is Marius. Jean's wife is Marie. Marius and Marie."

Ben looked at Adam in awe. His son was so unlike him, so clever and compartmentalized in his thinking. "Thank you, Adam. I won't forget." And Hoss, who wanted to go along with his father, pouted. "Want to go too. I want to go samfrisco too, Pa. Take me! Take me!" he had earlier pleaded. But eventually Hoss accepted that he couldn't go along this time. Hoss and Adam and Hop Sing waved goodbye to Ben who would be gone at least six months if not longer, while Heck drove him into town to the freight yard and then to Carson City for the stage west.

The days slowly passed and Adam thought of Jean every time he skinned one of the animals, especially the beavers and he and Heck worked at finishing the barn. Heck hadn't expected Adam to want to work on the barn since that was where his friend had been shot, but he did. What Heck didn't know was that Adam wanted to build it for Jean, to follow the exact plans the two had made for the barn. In Adam's mind, it would be similar to a memorial to Jean.

And Joyce Edwards often stopped by to check on the boys since Ben was gone. She would sit and have tea with Hop Sing and Hoss would crawl up into her lap and she would play with the fine strands of his blond hair and kiss the top of his head as he sat and ate the tea cookies or cakes she had brought in a basket. Adam made it a point to tell Joyce about his father's latest telegram each time she visited. Ben had sent one from San Francisco and then one when he arrived in New Orleans and two while he was there. And then came the telegram telling them that he was starting for home; he was traveling overland and was bringing someone with him.

Adam had spent many a night puzzling over who it could be that his father was bringing. He wondered if it was Marius Angeville. After all, Marius had been like a father to Jean, or so he had said and maybe Marius wanted to visit Jean's grave. Therefore, Adam was surprised when his father finally pulled up in the yard and beside him in the rented buggy was a beautiful, blonde woman, fashionably dressed with flowers and an artificial bird on her hat. Adam immediately knew that it was Marie D'Vaille Marigny.

Ben, swung Marie down from the carriage and then, holding onto Marie's hand, he broke the news to his sons and Hop Sing that he and Marie were married, that she was now Mrs. Cartwright and his sons' mother. Marie smiled delightedly at the small cook and the two boys, her new stepsons. Hop Sing was leery although polite, nodding and welcoming her to the Ponderosa. He had never had to deal before with a woman in the house. Perhaps he would find himself not wanted. But Hop Sing congratulated them both and realized that Ben Cartwright was happy and very much in love.

Hoss didn't quite understand that his father now had a wife, but Marie bent down to Hoss and asked him to call her "mama." She smiled at the husky child whose eyes were as clear and blue as the sky. But when she spoke to Adam she was met with steely, gray eyes and a firm mouth. He glanced from Marie to his father.

"Adam" Ben said. "I want to explain to you about…"

"You can't," Adam said. "You can't explain." Fury rose up in him, almost strangling him. His father had left to sell furs and to fulfill Jean's dying request and now came home with a wife-and not just any wife. Part of Adam urged him to remain quiet; this was adult business. But the other part of him wanted to strike out, to scream about his father's iniquities and the words burst forth. "What about Miss Joyce? What about her? I thought you loved her. And what about Jean?" He looked back at Marie whose stood stunned with her mouth open, and then to his father again. "How could you marry Jean's wife? How, Pa? He loved her-he said so. And now you've gone and married her yourself." And with that, Adam turned and stalked into the house and locking himself in his room. He leaned against the door, his head pounding with anger, his face hot, the door key cutting into his clenched fist. He threw himself on his bed but couldn't cry. His eyes burned but with a hate he'd never felt before. "I hate her, I hate her, I hate her," he said through gritted teeth. Adam pounded one fist into the mattress again and again.

Outside, Ben turned to Marie. "Adam'll be difficult as I warned you. It'll take time but he'll come around. Eventually, he will. I promise you. Marie. He's had to deal with quite a bit in the past few year but he's a reasonable boy. He'll come around." Ben leaned over and kissed Marie's cheek.

"I hope so, Benjamin. I hope so." Then she bent down and smiled at the small boy who looked at her.

"You're pretty," he said.

Ben kneeled down as well and hugged Hoss to him. "Yes, she is pretty. And I'm glad to see you, son. I missed you very much."

"Did you bring me somethin'?" Hoss asked.

Ben looked up at Marie and they both laughed. "Yes, Hoss. Other than a mother, I brought you a little toy from New Orleans. It's in my valise."

"Come with us, Hoss," Marie said, chucking him under the chin. "I have a present for you as well in my trunk." And Marie, holding Hoss' hand, followed Hop Sing who was carrying the suitcases into the house.

Ben remained standing in the yard. His smile dropped and was replaced by a look of worry, of deep concern. He had no idea if what he had said to comfort Marie had been true; he had no idea if Adam would ever come around. And he was flush with guilt-guilt about Joyce, guilt about Tom Edwards and guilt about Jean Marigny. And now, guilt about hurting his son, Adam, by marrying Marie. But Adam didn't understand; sons can't be everything to a man, Ben told himself. But it was little consolation.

~ Finis ~


End file.
